Santa Baby
by Robert Modean
Summary: An endless series of meetings, a grueling week of work, a dead body, an incompetent FBI Agent, an obnoxious intern, and a conniving best friend have pushed the Jeffersonian's premier forensic anthropologist to her limits. What will it take to finally push her over the edge as Christmas approaches? Ho HoHoHo Ho... My Secret Santa entry for AmandaFriend. Note Rating changed to M!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Unfortunately I don't own nor am I involved with the production of _Bones_, but I do work cheap, so Hart & Co. feel free to call me.

**Synopsis**: An endless series of meetings, a grueling week of work, a dead body, an incompetent FBI Agent, an obnoxious intern, and a conniving best friend have pushed the Jeffersonian's premier forensic anthropologist to her limits. What will it take to finally push her over the edge?

_A/N: This is my Secret Santa fic for AmandaFriend, of course this isn't the story I started out to write – that one I'm still writing, but this one sort of got a hold on me and it wouldn't let go. Of course, adult language and situations apply. Be Warned – this story includes graphic descriptions of stockings getting stuffed...or something getting stuffed at the very least._

_Addendum: Okay, I know this was due on January 6__th__ for the Bones Secret Santa but I've got a very good reason for pushing the deadline like I have – first the story sort of got away from me, I mean, it's a lot longer than I thought it'd be. Second I started it the week before Christmas and of course, got sick almost immediately afterward and have been battling some sort of lung funk ever since – it's terribly hard to write when you can barely think for all the rattling your lungs are doing. Anyway, this story is finally ready but it's so damned big I'm putting it out as a three shot, posting one chapter on the 8__th__, one on the 9__th__, and the final one on the 10__th__. Hope you enjoy them all, and Merry Christmas Amanda! Thanks._

**Santa Baby**

* * *

_Slender fingers grasped the spine tighter, fingertips turning white as blunt nails dug into the dry leather in a desperate attempt to hold onto the old book. Leaning forward on the tips of her toes, she shifted the books in her other arm for balance and arched her back, stretching her lean frame for every extra inch of height. The book teetered on the edge and for a second she feared her struggle was in vain until, suddenly, the volume rocked forward and slid into place with a satisfyingly soft thump. _

_Her fingers still lingered on the edge of the shelf when a shadow fell over them. The brush of rough, calloused skin over the back of her hand sent a spark coursing down her arm and straight to her center. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder she saw the broad shoulders and crooked smile of the library's most obnoxious and obstinate patron._

"_You're blocking my light."_

"_Well Excuse me, Miss Brennan, but I was only trying to help."_

_Warm breath puffed over her cheek as he spoke with a voice so rich, soft and warm that it sent a shiver through her when he used it. Frustrated at her body's betrayal, Brennan set the rest of her books down on a lower shelf and turned abruptly to face him. Her hand fell to his chest just as she turned. Enjoying the feel of firm flesh she let it linger for just a moment before shoving him backwards, hard._

"_If you wanted to help, Mister Booth, you'd do so by observing library rules of decorum."_

_Her lips settled into a tight, mirthless smile as he rocked back on his heels._

"_Now, to what do I owe the dubious pleasure of your company this time, Mister Booth?"_

_She watched as the normally cocky smile slid from his face, and a guarded, nervous look entered his eyes as he held out the small stack of books that had been tucked under his arm. He let them go almost reluctantly, and as she leafed through the back of each she understood why. When Brennan's eyes again caught his there wasn't a trace of cockiness left._

"_Explain yourself, Mister Booth."_

_Her voice was sharp and cold, as if each word was etched in frost with a promise of lingering pain if he failed to please. Booth's will was undone and he simply stared with lips pressed mutely together._

"_Well Mister Booth? Out with it, I don't have all day to deal with you."_

"_Okay! Okay. I just, well…I honestly didn't know I had them checked out for that long."_

"_Really."_

"_Really! I, I thought I'd returned them, you know? And I was cleaning out the trunk of my car when I found them."_

"_Is that all?"_

"_Um, yeah?"_

"_So how do you explain the oil stains?"_

"_They, um, they were wrapped up in an old rag I use when I change the oil in my car."_

"_I see. And the road tar?"_

"_I, uh, I sorta dropped them…in the parking lot. On the way in."_

"_The broken spines?"_

"_I had to kick'em out of the way of an on-coming car!"_

"_Which would explain the tire marks on this one."_

"_It didn't make quite make it."_

_Brennan sighed irritably as she looked at the three ruined books in her hands. Any other patron would be faced with serious fines, replacement fees, possibly even suspension of privileges, but she knew that wasn't an option here. As obnoxious as he was, she knew his circumstances wouldn't allow it. Booth was a scholarship student, true it was a sports scholarship, but he was one of the few 'scholar athletes' that actually lent credence to that epithet. She knew he lacked the financial means to sustain the pecuniary penalties, and the scholastic resources to forgo the library's services, but she'd be damned if she'd let him put one on her like so many others had tried. _

_A cold smile crept upon her lips as she realized there was at least one way she could make him pay. One way she could get her revenge on him and all of the arrogant jocks just like him who'd tormented her throughout her academic career. Temperance Brennan would get hers._

_She shoved the books back into his arms, not seeming to care how he bobbled them or what additional damage was done. While he juggled the wrecked volumes she took a good, long look at him. Seeley Booth was tall and well muscled, with a square jaw and rugged, symmetrical features. His chocolaty brown eyes, warm voice, and broad thick fingers had been the stuff of her fantasies for too long, it was time he paid the penalty for all those sleepless nights she'd been forced to endure. One way or another, he was going to pay._

"_Tell me, Mister Booth, are you aware of the penalties for having an overdue book?"_

"_Look, Miss Brennan, I know there's no excuse and, and I'll pay. I promise, I'll…I'll get another job, okay? And I'll…I'll work here, for free! I'll do anything, okay, just…please, don't take away my card?"_

"_Oh, that won't be a problem Mister Booth."_

"_It won't?"_

"_No, you see the library board has adopted a new set of policies where you're concerned."_

"_Th-they have?"_

_Booth stepped back nervously as Brennan continued to walk toward him, crowding him until his back hit the card catalog against the wall._

"_Yes, they have." Reaching up Brennan pulled the bobby pins from her hair, shaking her head gently as it cascaded down around her shoulders. "You see, I don't want your money."_

_Brennan's hands fell to his chest, she could feel the muscles flexing beneath the shear fabric of his tee shirt. Her hands drifted down, fingers tracing the contours of his flat stomach, and she watched with satisfaction as Booth swallowed hard in response._

"_You don't want money?"_

"_No Mister Booth."_

"_What, what do you…"_

"_You, Mister Booth. Just you."_

_Chest to chest, she held him pinned against the card catalog. Her fingers dipped lower, tightening around the cool metal of his belt buckle, loosening its hold on his pants. Booth's breathing was coming in short, shallow bursts and Brennan smiled at the sight - for once the brash, cocky, too-handsome for his own good bastard one doing the panting. With a quick tug she yanked the belt free and tossed it aside with a loud clang..._

Brennan bolted upright, one hand desperately flailing for the alarm on her side of the bed while the other pushed the sleep mask from her eyes. Holding the clock radio just inches from her face, it took longer than she'd care to admit before her bleary-eyes came into focus and she realized just how late she was.

"Damn!"

At that same instant her phone rang, startling her into dropping the alarm clock to the floor. Brennan cursed and dove for the source of the sound.

"Brennan," grimacing she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Yes Cam, I'm aware of the time...no, I am still planning on coming in today. I apologize for being late and especially for missing our budget meeting."

Brennan threw back the covers and bolted for the bathroom, phone still pressed to her ear, "Yes, I'll be in shortly. Just give me time to-what? Of course, send the directions to my phone and I'll meet the FBI there."

Brennan snapped the phone shut and started the water in the tub. While steam quickly filled up the bathroom she went back into her bedroom and dropped her phone on the night stand. It skidded across the top and dropped to the floor, sliding beneath her bed.

Curses turned the air blue as Brennan fell to her knees and began feeling around for her phone. Her hand hit something smooth and hard, and she heard the phone chirp as her fingers caressed its face. Sighing in relief, Brennan was just getting up from the floor when she jostled her nightstand.

A hiss of pain escaped her as she caught the corner of the carved mahogany table on her arm. She looked down at the angry read scratch that crossed her bicep and winced as her fingers probed the area. _'It'll probably bruise but other than a nasty scratch it's nothing,'_ she told herself. _'Shake it off, Bones, you've got a body to collect and if you don't get there soon that goon from the FBI will muck up the scene.'_

Squaring her shoulders, Brennan walked into the cloud of steam that filled her bathroom and hoped against hope that her day would only get better.

∙ v ∙

She increased the magnification and adjusted the light to get a clearer picture of the fracture lines along the edge. Narrowing her eyes into a tight squint as the image became sharper; she let out a groan of frustration. Grasping the fragile piece of skull between the padded ends of her tweezers, she slowly fitted it against a second, slightly larger piece, held gently between the teeth of the forceps in her right hand. Slowly, painfully slowly, she moved the two pieces into alignment, ever conscious of the fact that the slightest movement on her part could damage the already fragile heat sensitized bone further.

Perspiration beaded on her forehead despite the relative coolness of the lab. She crinkled her brow in concentration, forcing a small bead to roll down her skin, collecting strength as it went. Sticking out her lower lip, she puffed a breath upwards in annoyance, hoping against hope it would dissuade the errant bead of sweat that had formed a virtual rivulet from continuing along its current path. Her hopes were in vain.

Just as she was fitting the two pieces together, a single, small, perfectly aimed droplet of sweat rolled off her upper brow and fell square onto the magnifying lens in front of her. Startled, she bumped the two pieces of bone together causing the slightly larger one to snap in half, right where the grip of the forceps ended.

"Ms. Wick!"

Daisy jumped upward, causing her right wrist to strike the arm of the magnifier in the process. The sudden painful shock was enough for her already cramped hand to lose its grip on the forceps, and the next sound heard was the metallic clatter of them striking the examination tray covered in skull fragments. Daisy watched in horror as the additional weight of the forceps caused the slightly off balance tray to teeter, and then slowly fall to the floor of the platform.

"Ms. Wick-"

"Oh my God, Doctor Brennan!"

"Ms. Wick, what were-"

"OhmyGod!OhmyGod!OhmyGod!" Daisy continued excitedly, as she dropped to her knees and began scooping up pieces of skull from the platform floor. "ImsosorryDoctorBrennan!"

"Ms. Wick, what-"

"I swear, I was just trying to reconstruct the skull like you told me too, Doctor Brennan! I just didn't-"

"Enough!" Brennan's voice was short and sharp, and loud enough that the nearby lab techs froze in motion. "Ms. Wick, we do not scoop up evidence and dump it blindly on a tray regardless of circumstances. Now kindly finish collecting the skull fragments and arrange them on the tray, carefully, and once you're finished we can continue discussing why you weren't doing exactly what I told you to do, and how that will affect your future here at the Jeffersonian."

Daisy blanched at Brennan's words, but calmly returned to the task at hand only now she worked much more carefully, taking time to collect each piece and handle it with the care it required. The click of Brennan's boots on the platform floor told her she was no longer watching, and Daisy let out a sigh of relief even as a small tear escaped the corner of her eye.

∙ v ∙

Brennan walked off the platform feeling the knot of tension that had been her ever-present companion for the last few weeks grow ever tighter, settling between her shoulders. Tension she could handle, under normal conditions. Even tension induced by Ms. Wick was something she'd grown accustomed to, though she'd never actually admit it to anyone, except perhaps Booth. But the last few days were even worse than normal. Brennan was having trouble sleeping, her headaches were getting worse, she knew her temper was now abysmal, and yet all of that was acceptable in her mind as long as it didn't affect her work. Only now it was.

She caught sight of Cam coming toward her on an intercept course and quickly made a mid-stride course correction designed to avoid her nominal superior. She was actually quite fond of Cam, but right now a tedious lecture on whatever ridiculous rule or protocol she'd supposedly broken was not what she wanted to hear, especially not with the growing knot of tension in her shoulders trying to make its way slowly up her spine.

A lab technician was fast approaching, but with a glance Brennan knew the woman wanted nothing from her. A faint smile graced her lips at the realization that this lab technician, who's name escaped her at the moment, was one of the more officious and nettlesome sticklers for protocol. Typically that fact wouldn't matter to Brennan one way or the other, but right now it mattered a great deal as the stern looking busy-body was heading past her and directly toward Cam.

Brennan turned her head as she passed, feinting a nod of recognition, but smiling a ghost of a smile as she saw the woman waving and calling out to 'Doctor Saroyan'. Continuing to walk resolutely toward her office, Brennan made a mental note to give the woman a positive comment on her next evaluation for her contribution to the workplace environment – after all, distracting Cam at that precise moment had definitely made a positive impact on her workplace experience.

"Yo! Doc!" A deep, masculine voice boomed out, "Doctor B!"

'_Damn it!' She almost growled in thought, 'What could that buffoon want now?'_

Brennan studiously ignored the man and continued toward her office.

"Yoo hoo! Booones!" The voice sounded out from right behind her, bringing Brennan to a complete stop, "Hey, Bo-"

She spun around fast enough to startle the man in question into silence.

"Don't call me Bones, Agent Prentiss," Brennan snapped. "And I heard you the first time you bellowed, there was no need to continue to shout."

Prentiss gave her his version of a charming smile, but it only made Brennan cringe.

"Well? Was there something you wanted, Agent Prentiss? I've already given you my initial report and as soon as I have anything else to report I'll relay it to Geier and he can relay the information to you."

"Yeah, well that's one thing we need to straighten out, Doc," Prentiss put his hands on his hips and rocked back on his heels in an attempt to intimidate her. "All the information you get goes directly to me, no one else, capiche? This thing with you and Geier? That isn't going to work for me."

She smiled inwardly at the sight of the aforementioned FBI technician walking toward them, knowing that Prentiss was unaware of the other man's approach.

"Really? Are you sure?" Brennan feigned ignorance, "I only ask because this morning you indicated you couldn't understand my initial report, so I thought if you had someone who could explain it to you..."

"Explain it to me?"

"Yes, I believe it's called, 'dumbing down'?" Brennan's innocent expression was almost ruined by the look of utter disbelief on Prentiss' face.

Geier couldn't help but laugh at Brennan's comment, and Prentiss turned at the sound. His face went red as he saw the FBI crime scene technician standing there.

"Look, I don't need anyone to dumb anything down for me," he contested hotly, as he ignored the other man. "I've got a bachelor's in Criminology and certification in Forensic Science from FSU; I can read an evidence report. But that, that _thing_ you gave me, that wasn't even in English."

"I can assure you that report was written in English, Agent Prentiss, and it is exactly the same report I send Booth," Brennan arched a pointed eyebrow at the fuming agent.

"There's no way that's the same report you send Booth! No freakin' way!" Prentiss howled, "If that South Philly hood rat can read those reports without you holding his hand, I'll be a monkey's uncle."

"Yes, well despite the surprising strong case you make for a new transitional hominid state, I can assure you that Booth doesn't need my help in reading an evidence report." Brennan nodded to the FBI technician who'd joined them, "As I said before, I'll give my findings to Geier and he can explain them to you."

"And as I said before, that isn't going to work for me – you'll give the evidence reports to me, directly to me, and if anything needs explaining you can explain it to me." Prentiss stepped forward, crowding into Brennan's personal space, "In fact, maybe I can come by tonight and you can, uh, explain it all to me in detail. You know, just like you would for Booth?"

Brennan sneered at Prentiss, no longer bothering to conceal the contempt she felt for him as she spoke, "I can assure you Agent Prentiss - that will never happen."

"Really? Because you look like the kind of girl who likes to have fun, and ol' Booth," Prentiss leaned in even closer. "Well, we both know Seeley's too much of a boy scout to give a girl like you the kind of fun she's really looking for. Isn't that right, _Bones_?"

Geier's eyes had gone wide when used that particular pet name for the good Doctor, and he hastened to warn him off.

"Agent Prentiss, I don't think-"

"That's right, _you_ don't think, Doc, you just leave that to me and keep your pretty little head on your bones." Prentiss smiled an oily smile at Brennan as he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, letting his fingers stroke down her neck and shoulder.

"Oh, Agent Prentiss, I wouldn't do-"

Geier's warming was cut off by the sound of Prentiss screaming like a school girl, as Brennan reached over and grabbed his thumb, twisting it backwards against the Agents hand until she held him in an underhand thumb lock. Twisting harder, Brennan brought her left arm around and put additional pressure on Prentiss' elbow until the big man dropped to the floor, whimpering, his arm locked in Brennan's vice-like grip.

"I've put up with your boorish behavior, your ineptitude, your insults, I've even tolerated the denigrating and demeaning manner in which you talk about my partner, though it rankles me to do so," Prentiss struggled to stand and Brennan twisted his wrist harder, putting more pressure on the elbow to keep the arm locked straight in front of her.

"I wouldn't recommend struggling, Agent Prentiss." Brennan commented calmly, "It would take less than four pounds of additional pressure to affect a dislocation of the radioulnar joint."

Prentiss whimpered in response, his face contorted in pain and confusion, as Geier leaned in to translate.

"What Doctor Brennan said, is that if you keep struggling she could easily dislocate your forearm at the elbow," Prentiss's eyes widened in recognition and Geier nodded. "That would be very painful, so don't struggle."

"Thank you Marcus," Brennan nodded, adjusting her hold on the Agent's arm as he stopped struggling.

"Any time Doctor Brennan," Geier shared a knowing smile with Brennan, who looked like she was about to continue her harangue of Prentiss when Cam interrupted.

"Doctor Brennan, please let the Agent Prentiss get up off my floor," Cam admonished. "And would you care to tell me what you think you are doing to our temporary liaison?"

Cam's weary voice betrayed how close she was to losing her own temper, and Brennan, taking note of that fact, decided on brevity.

"Agent Prentiss registered a strenuous objection to how our evidence reports were written and when I attempted to provide him the assistance he needed to accurately interpret the report he'd been given, he became belligerent, made some rather suggestive overtures, and then put his hands on me."

"That's a damned lie!" Prentiss spat back.

Cam took in the battered FBI Agent who was cradling his right arm gingerly while flexing and rotating the rapidly swelling thumb. Though never as put together as Booth, the man was a normally a dapper dresser and took pride in his appearance, but right now he was red faced, disheveled and puffing like he'd just lost a fight with a heavy weight boxer.

"Alright, Agent Prentiss, what's your side of the story?"

"I asked this, this crazy woman, for an evidence report that made sense and she assaulted me!" He huffed.

"He's lying!" Brennan countered, looking to Geier for support. "Marcus was here, he heard everything; he can confirm that I'm telling the truth."

Cam folded her arms across her chest and turned toward the FBI forensic tech who was suddenly the center of attention.

"Very well, you're on Mister Geier. Care to shed some light on just why my forensic anthropologist was beating up your FBI Agent?"

"It went down pretty much like Doctor Brennan said. In fact," Prentiss shot Geier a menacing look which only prompted the tech to roll his eyes in disdain. "Agent Prentiss has been entirely unprofessional in dealing with Doctor Brennan and the rest of the staff here at the Jeffersonian. When he isn't bossing everyone around like they're his personal servants, he's insulting their work, their intelligence, and their working relationship with SSA Booth."

"Really?" Cam arched an eyebrow and aimed it at Prentiss who was practically fuming by then, "Anything you'd like to say in your defense, Agent Prentiss?"

"My defense? Yeah…yeah I've got something to say – you people are crazy!" Prentiss jerked his head toward Brennan, "The evidence reports are like nothing I've ever seen, no one could read them I tell you, no one! And then her highness here decides that she's going to embarrass me by having this geek," Prentiss jerked his head toward Geier, "read them to me like I'm some idiot. I graduated from FSU with a degree in criminology and I'm certified as a crime scene analyst for God's sake! I know how to read an evidence report!"

"The evidence would suggest otherwise," Brennan quipped, drawing a chuckle from Geier and a groan from Cam. "FSU has one of the better forensics programs available, perhaps you should seek a refund for you tuition from Florida State, Agent Prentiss. If you need a letter of recommendation I can attest to your lack of technical expertise."

"I didn't go to Florida State, I went to Fresno State," Prentiss corrected, testily.

"Are they even accredited?" Geier wondered aloud.

"That report wasn't even in English for cryin' out loud!" He exclaimed, exasperatedly, as he stared at Brennan. "The real problem here, Doctor Saroyan, is that little miss frosty britches here is worried that I just might be the man to replace her boyfriend, Agent Booth. She's spent more time trying to sandbag me and my investigation than she's spent actually working the case. And when I pushed her to perform, she attacked me – me! I'm a Federal Agent; I can have her arrested for that."

"Right, well I think I've heard enough, Agent Prentiss-" Prentiss wheeled on Cam, interrupting her.

"You need to get your house in order, Saroyan, before she slips her leash again and actually kills someone. I'm telling you, that, that _woman_ is dangerous. If you can't control her, then lock her up," Prentiss shot a sidelong look at Brennan then, "In fact she probably ought to be locked up, just like that criminal father of hers."

Cam gasped at the oblique mention of Max, while Brennan simply stood stoically, enduring the Agent's tirade. Prentiss rocked back on his heels, obviously pleased with himself, a state that lasted less than two seconds.

"Right, well thank you for that Agent Prentiss, I'm now fairly certain I know exactly what happened here," Cam nodded toward Brennan, "Doctor Brennan, Daisy and the skull reconstruction, do I need to ask?"

"She has been instructed to lay out the pieces again, so we can proceed with the reconstruction but at this point I have no confidence in her ability to do it unsupervised."

"Fine, if you don't mind a suggestion?" Brennan nodded, "Call in Fisher, he's the best intern you've got when it comes to multiple fracture patterns, perhaps if he took lead in the reconstruction she might learn something by assisting him?"

Brennan cocked her head briefly; a small smile spread across her lips as she came to her own conclusion, "An excellent idea, I'll contact him at once if you'll let Daisy know for me?

Cam sighed in resignation but gave a nod of agreement, "Of course, and seeing as Fisher and Daisy will be busy the rest of the day with the reconstruction, why don't you take the day off?"

Brennan opened her mouth to argue but Cam shut her down before she could begin.

"Let me rephrase that. I know you want to stay and supervise your interns but you've had a long few weeks, Doctor Brennan." Cam cast a glance at Prentiss and amended her statement, "We've all had a long few weeks without Booth here, but you've obviously not been sleeping well and quite frankly, I'm afraid if you stay there might be bloodshed."

"I'm sorry, Cam, but I would never assault a member of staff."

"I never said anything about the blood being shed belonging to anyone on staff at the Jeffersonian." Cam smiled grimly, "Anyway, I'd like you to go home and get some rest before you break anymore FBI agents. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Cam. Perfectly."

Brennan gave Cam a slight smile and turned to leave, only to stop when she felt the iron grip of Agent Prentiss on her arm.

"This isn't over between us, Doc," Prentiss menaced. "I'll bring you up on charges for assaulting a Federal Agent."

"Do you know the difference between a real alpha male and a beta male who only pretends to have alpha traits, Prentiss? Booth is a true alpha male; he's virile, strong, intelligent, dependable, and fiercely protective of his pack and most of all, he's the best investigator I've ever worked with," Brennan leaned in until she was inches from the red faced Agent. "In short, he's everything you're not. Now take your hand off me before I break your arm."

Prentiss released his hold on Brennan like she was on fire, and watched the woman rapidly disappear past the door to her office. He turned back to Cam who was looking at him in disgust, her contempt no longer veiled, however thinly.

"See? See how she acts? I'm telling you, that bitch is crazy!" Prentiss turned back toward Cam and was shocked at the undisguised anger in her face.

"Agent Prentiss, that 'bitch' just happens to be a brilliant scientist, one of the world's leading forensic anthropologists, and a valued member of my team, so I'd thank you to pick your words more carefully when talking to and about her if I thought it was necessary."

Prentiss's blank look pulled an exasperated sigh from Cam. She reached out and grabbed the Jeffersonian Visitor's pass clipped to his suit pocket and pulled it free, waiving it in front of him.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?" Prentiss protested. "I need that! I'm still working the case, Doctor Saroyan, and as long as I'm your liaison have to grant me access to the evidence and that means the lab."

"There is a very short list of things I have to do in my life, and taking orders from you isn't even close to being one of them." Ignoring the shocked look on Prentiss' face, Cam pulled out her phone and started composing a text message. "Contrary to what you think, Prentiss, the Jeffersonian Medico Legal Lab is not an adjunct of the FBI," Cam looked up from her phone and smiled. "We don't work for you, Agent Prentiss, and your presence here is no longer conducive to an effective work environment."

"B-but I'm still the liaison!"

"Not anymore you're not. You're position as liaison was a purely temporary solution to Agent Booth's being out of town at the symposium. Your time here is over." Cam saw the objection forming on his lips and held up her hand, stopping him instantly. "I know, there's still an active investigation, not to worry. I'll discuss how we'll handle bringing your replacement up to speed when I talk about your abhorrent behavior with Assistant Deputy Director Hacker at our meeting this afternoon."

"Assistant…Hacker?"

"Assistant Deputy Director Hacker," Cam corrected the fumbling agent. "You may know him better as your Boss."

Cam ignored the gobsmacked agent, and turned to the technician beside him, "Mister Geier, since Agent Prentiss won't be our acting FBI liaison, would you mind continuing to work with Doctor Hodgins collecting and analyzing the particulate evidence?"

"Of course, Doctor Saroyan," Replied Geier, barely able to contain his smile. "I was planning on asking to do so anyway. Doctor Hodgins was considering an experiment to determine how the pollen could have gotten inside the wound track, it sounded rather intriguing."

Cam barely contained a groan of defeat at the word 'experiment', and was about to say something when Prentiss, again, interrupted her.

"Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot, Doctor Saroyan," he gave her a smarmy smile. "I can learn to work around Doctor Brennan's issues with me if you can just order her to stop being such a, um, impediment to my investigation."

Cam cocked her head at the Agent and gave him both barrels.

"You have got to be kidding me. I have tried, so hard, to be nice about this, to afford you some modicum of dignity even though you've been intent on alienating and offending each and every member of my team, and yet you still have the balls to stand there and act as if Doctor Brennan's the problem?" Prentiss opened his mouth, Cam promptly closed it, "No, don't say a word Agent Prentiss, I already know what you're going to say. You're going to say that this isn't just about the job or your career, and sure you made some mistakes but this is about an active case and right now the victim deserves better. Right?"

"No. No, I was going to say it's my investigation, not yours, and you're dreaming if you think the FBI will take your word over mine, I'm an FBI Agent for cryin' out loud!"

Cam motioned for the pair of security guards who'd just arrived before turning back to Prentiss.

"And that is why you won't be working on this investigation anymore, Agent Prentiss. Doctor Brennan? She would put the victim's need for justice before her own needs or wants, and Agent Booth? I've seen him pursue a line of inquiry even when it threatened to wreck his career. That's the level of commitment we give to these cases, that's the level of professionalism that's expected here. That's why you're no longer welcome at the Jeffersonian."

"You needed us, Doctor Saroyan?"

Prentiss turned to see that the voice had come from the larger of two very beefy security guards.

"Yes, Agent Prentiss appears to be lost – please show him the exit and escort him off Jeffersonian property."

∙ v ∙

Office door finally in sight, Brennan could still hear Cam and Agent Prentiss arguing. She grabbed the doorknob and let slip a sigh. She was craving the solace of her office and the distractions she could find if she immersed herself in work or writing. There was more than work that awaited her inside, however. There was her very comfortable couch, a shiatsu neck pillow Angela had given her last Christmas that had proven very effective, and more importantly, an old shirt that Booth had left here after their last case together.

As the door swung open her thoughts immediately drifted back to the night she'd come into possession of that shirt. It had been raining and they'd finally wrapped up their latest case. Booth got soaked carrying her kit, and his gym bag, in from the SUV as she ran ahead to the safety of the lab entrance. She could recall with perfect clarity the sight of a wet, panting Booth standing in the doorway of her office. The memory still vivid in her mind, her partner peeling off his jacket and t-shirt in response to her protests that he was getting water everywhere; the protests that died on her lips as she watched the last traces of rain roll down his chest and trail over the well chiseled muscles of his stomach.

With a different type of tension now gripping her body altogether, Brennan stepped into her office and headed directly to the couch. Her mind was focused on thoughts of the shirt, still tucked under the corner pillow of her couch; how the faint scent of Booth would again fill her nostrils, lulling her to sleep. She didn't want to think about the fact that the one thing guaranteed to lull her to sleep was a shirt smelling like her partner, she just wanted two aspirin and a quick nap.

"Hey there, Sweetie."

Brennan froze in a half crouch, inches from the sitting down on the couch. A groan unconsciously crawled out of her throat.

"Angela"

Angela was sitting at her desk, leaning back in the very expensive, very comfortable ergonomic workstation chair that she'd special ordered months ago. Her boot shod feet were propped up on the edge of her mahogany desk; Brennan could almost see the heels of her friend's boots digging shallow channels in the wood.

The artist was clad in a peasant skirt and matching blouse, carelessly tossing a small porcelain pig in the air, the artist looked as relaxed and carefree as ever. Brennan loved her friend, loved her open and giving nature, her joie de vive, the way she sought out the best in every situation. Most of all she loved how Angela saw something in her worth befriending; she was one of the few who never ran from Brennan, never abandoned her, and never would.

Which is why, as irrational as it was, Brennan couldn't understand the desire she had to scream. That was _her_ Jasper.

"Wow, Bren, you look tense," Angela tossed the little pig up in the air, barely catching it by the tips of her fingers. "Oops! Tricky little sucker."

Brennan saw the plastic keepsake tumble in Angela's grip as the artist passed it from hand to hand. Her head could only register '_My Jasper!_' but her gut knew what to do. It took just two quick steps to go from the couch to her desk; the plastic porker had just left the artist's hands when Brennan's cat-like reflexes kicked in, allowing her to snatch the treasured figurine out of the air.

"Whoa! Sweetie! If you don't want me touching your toys just say so."

"You shouldn't touch things on people's desks, Angela," Brennan admonished. "Now what can I do for you?"

"Well, for starters, how about dialing it down a notch," Angela snarked. "Seriously Brennan, you've been a real-"

"Bitch?" Brennan snapped.

"What? No!" Angela rocketed to her feet, a horrified look on her face. "Oh God, Sweetie, I would never say that about you. You've just been a little hard to be around lately, that's all. And I'm sure Special Agent Short-Bus hasn't been helping things any either, right?"

"It's alright, Angela. I can admit that I've been more than a little difficult to work with the past few weeks," Brennan absently ran her fingers over the small pig she still clutched to her chest. "I made Wendell cry the other day."

"No!"

"Yes," Brennan hung her head in shame. "He was working on the restoration of a 14th century Andean mummy and the de-humidifier wasn't turned on in the exam room."

"Oh Bren," Angela tried to stifle the laughter that was bubbling up inside her but failed. "Seriously, you made him cry?"

"It's not funny, he was really quite upset," Brennan protested, guiltily.

"I know, I shouldn't be laughing but…Wendell? Crying? Bren, you've got to see the funny here, right? I mean, Wendell's as grounded and tough as they come. He's…he's Booth if Booth was a forensic anthropology grad student instead of an FBI Agent. It's like you're a mean girl who made Booth cry."

"I am not purposefully mean," Brennan protested. "And why would I want to make Booth cry?"

"You wouldn't, it's just the idea of a big strong guy like Booth crying because a girl yelled at him. It's funny, alright?"

"I don't understand."

"Forget it Sweetie, I keep forgetting that you never saw 'Mean Girls'," Angela shook her head in dismay.

"I've known many mean girls, Angela, especially in high school. I was never particularly fond of them, nor did I aspire to be like them."

Angela rolled her eyes at her friend's obliviousness, "Never mind, Bren. It's not important, and it's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Fine, what did you want to talk about?"

"Geez, Brennan, give me a break. You know, you've been really tense lately, Sweetie, you know what you need?"

"A good night's sleep?" Brennan said tiredly.

"No, I was going to say you need to get laid, but now that you mention it you do look exhausted," Angela gave her a pitying smile. "Been having trouble sleeping lately, Bren?"

"Yes, yes I have," Brennan turned back toward the couch and sat down heavily. "It seems like I am having difficulty achieving REM sleep, and when I do fall manage to reach it..."

"Nightmares?"

"Yes. No," Brennan sighed. "It's complicated."

"Dreams, and some pretty vivid ones too. Am I right?"

"Yes, very," Brennan whispered. "And they won't stop."

"Yeah, I know the kind you're talking about. Hot and steamy, the kind that get you all worked up with the promise of amazing sex but leave you feeling alone and frustrated in the morning," Angela could see the surprise register on Brennan's face. "Relax, Sweetie. I've been there."

"Y-you have?"

"Oh yeah," Angela nodded. "Of course there's one sure-fire cure for _those_ kinds of dreams."

"There is?"

"Of course there is," Angela laughed. "Sex, Honey. Hot, steamy, sweaty, bed-breaking sex. In your case I'd recommend a good solid weekend of it, preferably with a certain FBI stud in the starring role."

Brennan groaned, "Angela, please! I'm in serious need of help. I can't sleep, I'm having difficulty concentrating on my work," Brennan gave her friend a watery smile. "And apparently I'm becoming quite a bitch to be around."

"Brennan, I want you to listen to me – you are not a bitch, okay? Are you a little higher strung than normal right now, yes; more demanding than usual, absolutely. But a bitch? Sweetie, if I wouldn't let anyone else call you that then why should you get away with it?"

Angela pulled Brennan in for a quick hug. When the two pulled apart, the artist gave her friend a heartfelt smile.

"Now do yourself a favor, go home. Take the rest of the day off; tell Cam you've got some personal business to take care of and then take care of business."

"So...you're saying I should masturbate?"

A frustrated sigh escaped, but Angela nodded, "Yes, Sweetie, masturbate, get off, tickle your fancy. Whatever you want to call it, just, just go home, run a hot bath, pour a tall glass of good wine, and log a little personal time with your massaging shower head, alright?"

"Yes, I-I think that's exactly what I'll do." Brennan smiled back, the first genuine smile she'd felt come to her face in nearly three weeks.

* * *

_A/N: There's a review button there, please feel free to use it and remember, the more specific the better. Its not that I don't love fluffy reviews but I like detailed feedback better. Thanks!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Unfortunately I don't own nor am I involved with the production of _Bones_, but I do work cheap, so Hart & Co. feel free to call me.

_A/N: Here's the 2__nd__ installment, the final one will be up tomorrow on the 10__th__. Hope you enjoy them all and Merry Christmas Amanda! Thanks._

**Santa Baby – Chapter Two**

* * *

"_Now do yourself a favor, go home. Take the rest of the day off; tell Cam you've got some personal business to take care of and then take care of business." _

"_So...you're saying I should masturbate?"_

"_Yes, Sweetie, masturbate, get off, tickle your fancy. Whatever you want to call it, just, just go home, run a hot bath, pour a tall glass of good wine, and log a little personal time with your massaging shower head, alright?"_

"_Yes, I-I think that's exactly what I'll do."_

Her conversation with Angela had been playing in her head on an endless loop since she left her office. She couldn't believe that she was thinking about actually going home in the middle of the day to indulge her biological urges. It was tantamount to a capitulation of the enlightened intellectual to the base primitive, more than that it was a betrayal of her principles as an academic and a scientist. Yes, part of her could appreciate it as an expression of self-empowered feminism, but another part of her felt it was simply too self indulgent and more than a little skeevy.

She wasn't even sure what skeevy was, but this seemed skeevy to her. In fact she would probably be better off just taking a long hot bath and reading one of her anthropological journals only…only every time she thought about taking a bath and reading a journal she thought back to the time she'd interrupted Booth taking a bath. Booth in the bath wearing nothing but a stupid beer hat, smoking that stupid cigar and reading that stupid comic book; if only he hadn't stood up.

It was a game she liked to play - a self-indulgent folly, of course, but one she allowed herself. The game went like this, '_if only Booth hadn't stood up and shown off his beautiful naked body I wouldn't dream about him ravishing me like some virgin-heroine in one of Cam's bawdy romance novels_'. That was a particularly embarrassing recurring fantasy of hers - Booth as Lord Seeley, powerful local laird and master of the manor, her as the lowly serving wench Temperance who is really an undercover scholar of forensics working on behalf of the King to discover the secret behind a series of local disappearances. All is going well until she's called to fetch towels for Lord Seeley's bath. She enters the torch-lit room, he's lounging in the steaming bath drinking wine from a golden goblet when he spies her out of the corner of his eyes. He commands her to come forward into the light, and when she does he casts a critical eye over her, never smiling, only to command her, '_Attend me_'. And she did, rubbing him down with rough cotton towels, chaffing his bronzed skin until it glowed, chasing away the water as it rolled down his chest, his stomach, his pelvis his...well the investigation never really gets past that point. Pity the poor people of Middlewich.

As embarrassing a fantasy as that was, it paled in comparison to the ones that involve him taking her in her office, his office, Angela's office, Sweet's office...she was beginning to detect a recurring theme. Of course that didn't account for her fantasies involving Limbo, her examination room, the decontamination showers, the lobby, or an exam table on the platform. Those wouldn't be so bad, of course, if she hadn't had the opportunity to actually put her hands on his body when they were in Las Vegas working the Roberts/Morgan case.

A shiver ran through her body just then, accompanied by snapshot images of Booth, muscles rippling, pummeling a larger man into submission. Those snapshot images were immediately followed by sense memories of steamy showers, Irish Spring and Tiger Balm being generously applied by her eager and active fingers to the aching, rigid muscles of his chiseled frame. He fell asleep under her hands, with only a towel between them. She shouldn't have peaked. Now, of course, it was all she could do not to imagine his gloriously naked body every time he got near enough for her to smell him – and if he'd been working out at the gym that day, forget it.

All of this was going through her mind as she completed the short drive from the Jeffersonian to her apartment, which led her to one inevitable conclusion – if she was ever to have a moment's sanity to herself again before Booth came back from the symposium she needed a biological release.

· V ·

Brennan had just shouldered open the door, her keys were still jingling in the lock, when she saw it. And how could she not? It was sitting there on the end of her coffee table, in full view of the entryway and front door, and it was sparkling in the dim light. A box. A gift box, obviously, that wasn't the question, the question was who could have left it there, and why?

Her father, Booth, Angela? All had access to her apartment, but who could have left it for her? Her father was in Vermont, and Booth, he'd been in Chicago for more than three weeks teaching a class on interrogation techniques at a joint Law Enforcement Services symposium. That left only Angela, but she'd been at work when Brennan arrived, late, and was still there when Brennan left for the day.

It occurred to her that she should be wary, nervous, and even afraid of the fact that someone had broken into her house and left a package for her – in her line of work that was almost never a good thing to have happen. And yet…and yet the only feeling Brennan could muster right then was a burning curiosity. Albeit a burning curiosity tempered by experience; she calmly slipped the small Smith & Wesson Bodyguard out of its hiding place and thumbed off the safety.

The door swing shut behind her, Brennan absently throwing the deadbolt while simultaneously toeing off her shoes. She'd managed to drop her briefcase, shrug out of her coat, and put her keys in their place in a bowl near the door, without taking her eyes off the package. True, juggling the .380 had been a bit trickier than she'd liked, but she was nothing if not prepared as she stepped into the living room of her apartment.

It took Brennan less than 30 seconds to do a quick and dirty sweep of her place without ever really leaving the perimeter of her living room. With one eye firmly fixed on the mystery box sitting on her coffee table, she'd looked around until she was sure that the package itself was the only thing that was out of place.

She approached they mystery box the way a lioness would approach a sleeping gazelle, wary of any rapid movements, worried that if she took her eyes off of it for a second, or if she moved too quickly, then her quarry might bolt. But it didn't. It wasn't an illusion, it wasn't a dream, and it was real. Someone had left her a beautifully wrapped present; covered in embossed gold foil paper, the box was wrapped up in a gauzy ribbon of metallic silver and gold thread that seems to catch even the dimmest light and make dance like liquid fire. It should have been gaudy and over the top, maybe it was to someone else, but what it was to her, was beautiful.

Reaching out, the golden paper felt cool to the touch; she traced the raised ridges and dimpled valleys of the embossed paper with an intensity normally reserved for bones. The ribbon was at once rough and smooth, gossamer light silk interwoven with silver and gold thread that was flowed like water beneath her fingertips. She thumbed on the safety and set her pistol down on the table; her hands lightly grasped the box, turning it too and fro, watching in wonder as the light seemed to ripple across its surface. Of course when the box started to vibrate she dropped it like a hot rock.

She was standing about five feet away, panting breathlessly; eyes transfixed by the box on the floor, shaking like an epileptic Chihuahua. Creeping forward slowly, she cautiously reached out and – the vibration died the second she touched the box. Curiosity overcoming common sense, Brennan snatched the package up and gave it a shake. It instantly started vibrating again.

With a frustrated sigh she carried the box to the couch and sat down. Tugging the ribbon free, she ran a nail under the edge, carefully separating the tape and teasing the paper aside. Her careful approach was taking longer than she liked, and a nervous twitch caused her fingers to tug too hard, tearing the paper. The sudden sound of that small rip was like a damn breaking inside her, and for the first time in her life Temperance Brennan was tearing the paper off a present - pulling and ripping until all that was left was a plain, brown box, roughly the size of a large shoebox.

She carefully popped open the top and started pulling out the packing paper, anxious to get to what lay beneath. Paper and packing peanuts covered the floor as she heedlessly emptied the box until she got to the prize at the bottom. Gasping aloud, Brennan reached inside and pulled out her present. There, in her own two shaking hands, was the gift someone had gone to such great lengths to give her – a vibrator. But not just any vibrator, the box proclaimed this to be "King Dong", a seven inch long life-like vibrator that promised realistic flesh tones and a real, flesh-like feel.

She was just about to put it down and call up a certain artist to give her a firm lecture on respecting personal boundaries, after all, who else could possibly have been responsible, when she saw the note lying amidst the wreckage of the packing material. Snatching it up, Brennan tore the note free of its envelope and gasped-

'_Bones,_

_I know you probably didn't see this one coming, but partners take care of one another in all sorts of ways. Since I can't be there to take care of you personally, I thought our little friend here could do the trick until I'm back in town._

_See ya' in a few days, oh, and don't bother trying to figure out how I managed to get this inside your apartment when I'm a thousand miles away – they don't call me a 'special agent' for nothing!_

_~ Booth_

_PS – don't forget to eat something while I'm gone! And no, rabbit food isn't a meal!'_

Brennan dropped the box in disgust. She'd used vibrators before; she wasn't ashamed to admit that, but getting something like this from Booth? He was her partner! This, this was completely inappropriate; it was surely far over that precious line of his. Hell, it was so far over the line the line was a dot on the horizon. No, scratch that, it _was_ the horizon.

Still...

She had been dreaming about him, constantly, since he'd been gone, and he'd been the subject of waking dreams and daytime fantasies for a long, long time before then. And of course, they was a physical attraction between them, how could there not be? They were two physically attractive individuals with a unique, even special connection – the kind of connection that could not only enhance a sexual coupling it could elevate it to something truly special. And that was why she hadn't, as Angela would say, jumped him yet. She understood, as she assumed Booth did, that what they had was special, and that a physical coupling, however enjoyable, would ultimately be self defeating. It was also why she'd agreed with him in principle that a romantic relationship between partners wasn't the best idea, especially given the hazardous nature of their chosen professions. They needed to rely on one another, to be there for one another, and while she couldn't deny the intense, almost visceral attraction she had for him, she had to remember that he was her partner. Yes, he was strong and virile and charming and, and sweet - he was Booth, after all. He was her partner.

Her handsome, sexy, amazingly symmetrical partner who was so frustrating, so…so Goddamned arrogant and cock-sure, what with his cocky belt buckle wearing, boss fucking, pussy teasing attitude. As if she wasn't constantly aware of just how hard his body was beneath those $1200 designer Italian suits. As if she didn't feel his hot, muscular body every time he pulled her in for a 'guy hug', whatever the fuck those were; or let her fingers trace the lines of his muscles when they 'accidentally' bumped into one another. Damn him.

Brennan grabbed the box and stormed off to her bedroom, cursing Booth's name the entire time.

· V ·

Soft jazz played quietly in the background while the warm heat of the bath salt scented water eased away her physical aches. A sip of rich, red wine rolled indulgently over her tongue before sliding down her throat, warming her from the inside out. Brennan reached out for her partner's gift. Marveling at the way the light bounced off the veins and ridges along the curved silicone shaft. A twist of the base started the vibrator humming and she watched in fascination as the shaft disappeared beneath the water, making the surface of her bath dance and flash in the flickering candlelight.

The head of the vibrator touched the outer lips of her pussy, sending an exhilarating thrill straight to Brennan's center. She caressed her pussy slowly, massaging her outer lips by stroking up and down with the vibrator and letting the soft gel head push between them, teasing the sensitive inner surface. A small mewling moan slipped out when she hit a certain spot; pressing harder, the head slipped between the lips just inside her entrance. Moving up and down with short, rolling motions, she made sure the vibrating head massaged the sensitive walls right there, bighting her lower lip as the sensation drove her desire to greater and greater heights.

Her mind ran free with her fantasies and soon it was Booth's head between her legs, his talented tongue lashing away in her dripping wet pussy, licking her inside out, dragging his face, rough with five o'clock shadow, over her sensitive inner thighs. Her fingers were his fingers, slowly pushing their way through the thatch of chestnut curls; she could imagine a rough calloused index finger lazily circling her clit as the jelly soft head of the vibrator, a proxy for his talented tongue, pushed deeper past her outer lips.

Shifting back, the warm water sloshing over her chest as her body sank deeper into the tub; Brennan could feel him entering her, filling her, stretching her. His length and girth were perfect and the way he moved inside her, teasing her inner walls, massaging that soft and rigid spot inside that made her gasp, while his fingers continually teased and tortured her aching clit. She'd wanted Booth for years, but she couldn't have him, so if this was as close as she was going to get then she'd make it worth every second.

The fire in her core was burning hotter and hotter, until it seemed like the water was sizzling against her skin. Tension in her center coiled tighter with each twist and thrust, stoking the fire inside. Her muscles grew taut, her nipples tightened, gooseflesh rose over every inch of exposed skin. She could feel the pressure building like a wave inside her, and those images - her being ravaged by Booth's mouth, held down by his muscular arms, while a pounding surf roared around them grew stronger and stronger until a huge wave came along and – nothing. The vibrator simply stopped. Dead.

Brennan sat there, frozen, a tableau of sexual frustration. Slowly, almost as if in a daze, she pulled it out of her now aching pussy, sitting up in the tub as she did. She turned the base again and again, seeking new power settings each time – nothing. She took off the base and reseated the batteries, then screwed it back on and twisted it more aggressively - the vibrator sprung to life again only to peter out almost at once. She screwed her eyes shut in quiet contemplation of the vagaries of life.

"Fuck!" she shouted, bolting upright in the bath. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Water cascaded off her lithe, toned body as she reached for the plug and stepped out of the bath without a second thought. Water sloshed over the sides, swamping three fourths of the scented candles. Yanking her towel from the rack she scarcely noticed that it had flicked the fourth candle into the tub with a wet, sloshy plunk. A woman on a mission, Brennan marched into her bedroom, one hand holding a towel and half scrubbing her body dry, the other holding her vibrator in a death grip, and all the while water trailing across her floor as she strode with purpose and cursed her partner the entire time.

"What kind of moron buys someone a vibrator and doesn't check the fucking batteries!" she fumed, "Booth, that's what kind. I swear, if that man wasn't so Goddamned gorgeous I'd beat him senseless with this, this…ARGH!"

She yanked on a pair of jeans and pulled on a t-shirt, not bothering with such niceties as panties or a bra, and marched straight out of her bedroom and into the living room. Brennan snatched up her sidearm and jammed it into her purse along with the inactive vibrator. Shoving her feet into a pair of flats, she threw on a jacket and grabbed her keys before marching out the door of her apartment. She was a woman on a mission, and God forbid the person who got in her way.

· V ·

If there was a dark cloud on the horizon, it was parked over Temperance Brennan. The grey December skies had gone greyer before opening up and starting to dump a wet, heavy snow on the city, snarling rush hour traffic and making a bad situation even worse. Of course the fact that she was ill dressed for the weather didn't help matters, nor did the attitudes of the local shop keepers, but none of that could stop her – she had left her apartment with a sense of purpose. She was Temperance Brennan, a woman on a mission – only that mission was going up in flames.

The paunchy, rat faced man leaned forward on the chipped Formica counter, his knuckles going white as he pressed down harder in frustration. One hand came up and pulled a twisted, well chewed upon swizzle stick from between a pair of thick chapped lips and jabbed it in Brennan's direction.

"Listen Lady, I don't give a rat's ass who you think you are or why you think you're so special, but that don't change the fact that we ain't got any triple' A's!"

"But you have to have some! This is a convenience store; you are supposed to sell things that are convenient like disposable lighters and tampons and batteries - if you don't have any batteries why are you even open?!"

"Lady, this is a Kwik Stop Convenience Mart. What we sell is overpriced groceries, day old hot dogs, and Slurpees, and most of that is to teenagers and college kids who are looking for a sugar fix while they come down from whatever they've been smoking," shot back the clerk. "If we don't have any batteries they ain't gonna care. Hey, look, we've got some packs of C cell and D cell batteries, maybe those would work?"

"No, no I told you, I need at least three triple A batteries. Not C cell or D cell, the batteries have to be AAA's! This is the fourth place I've been," Brennan ranted. "The bodega in my neighborhood was out, the gas station at the corner, the Radio Shack closed early because of this damned snow, and now you - you must know where I can get some? Please?"

The clerk threw up his hands in disgust, shoved the swizzle stick back in his mouth and began to chew aggressively. Brennan was about to make an obscene suggestion about what he could do with the stick when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. She turned to see a rather frumpy older woman standing there in a severe brown suit giving her a most sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry, miss, but I couldn't help but overhear," her voice was solicitous and understanding. "I take it you don't read the newspapers or watch TV much?"

Brennan shook her head, "No, I've been quite busy lately and I have never watched much television, not even for the news."

"Ah, well then that explains it," She nodded, knowingly. "You see there's a terrible shortage, you know. Seems there was a fire at some battery factory in one of those Latin countries…"

"Mexico," intoned a solemn looking man in a slightly dated, but very conservative, business suit who'd joined the conversation. "It was the Energizer's manufacturing plant outside Mexico City." He then added conspiratorially, "I've heard they're investigating it as a suspicious fire - probably environmentalists if you ask me."

"Oh, I hadn't heard that!" exclaimed Frumpy Woman. "Well that explains it then."

"Explains what? Surely that can't be the only plant in the Western hemisphere that manufactures triple A batteries!" Brennan saw only sad faces staring back at her, "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"No, no we're not. Really dearie," Assured the Frumpy Woman. "What with that recall and all-"

"Wait, what recall?"

"The battery recall. You mean you don't know? Really? Hmm, well about a week before Energizer's plant caught fire Duracell had to recall their entire run of double A and triple A batteries. Seems there was some sort of manufacturing mishap that caused them to overheat and catch fire," Solem Man commented.

"Oh no, I heard they exploded," the Frumpy woman nodded readily, ignoring the look from the Solemn Man. "Oh yes, terrible thing, too. Of course my Henry says that the shortage is really being caused by the Government banning the importation of cheaper batteries from China. He says that the Administration is in bed with the battery companies and is colluding to drive up the prices by keeping the supply artificially low. Big Battery, that's what he calls it."

"Poppycock," interrupted the Solemn Man. "That ban was in place long before the Duracell recall or the Energizer fire. It was necessary, too! The Chinese were dumping unsafe batteries on the American market-"

"Excuse me-"

"-Big Battery indeed. That's the sort of conspiracist nonsense that-"

"Excuse me!" shouted Brennan, finally breaking into the conversation. "Does this mean there are no batteries available anywhere?"

"Yes, well I hear you can get them online," Solemn Man offered.

"Amazon," offered the Frumpy Woman. "My daughter ordered four eight-packs of small batteries like the ones you're looking for from Amazon. Got them in just three days, too."

"Now there's a company that knows its business," Solemn Man added. "Why just last week I ordered a-"

"Please, I really need to get some batteries!" Brennan implored. "I have a, a very special gift that needs them. It- it is health related, you see."

"Well, I suppose the person who gave you the gift…"

"Yes, yes, excellent point. I know when I buy any of those electronic toys for my nephews or nieces I also tend to buy the batteries for them," nodded Solemn Man. "You never know when they might run out. You know how those electric toys eat batteries."

"Yes, yes I do," muttered Brennan. "Thank you, thank you both very much."

The door was still closing, slowly, as Brennan hot footed it across the parking lot. If she hadn't been in such a rush she would have been privy to the comments of her fellow shoppers, who were still discussing her issue.

"I say, she was quite abrupt, wasn't she?" Solemn Man remarked.

"Oh please, she was understandably rushed. I mean, I've been where she is, it's no fun when you really need batteries like that and there are none to be found." Argued Frumpy Woman.

"Well you'd think she'd have taken that into consideration, what with Christmas coming and all the battery supplies are bound to be low to begin with," nodded Solemn Man.

"Yes, but it's hardly her fault now is it?" Countered Frumpy Woman, "After all, I've got the same model vibrator at home, and while I wouldn't trade it for anything I swear, they go through batteries like my Henry goes through bacon."

"Yes, well," Solemn Man a-hemmed. "I wasn't going to comment on _that_."

"Really? I couldn't think of anything else, the way that little pink head was poking out of her purse and all," argued the Frumpy Woman.

"Hmm, quite," nodded Solemn Man. "Quite, indeed."

· V ·

The door was still rattling in its frame. The sound of the bolt hitting home had only just died and she could still here the chain jangling against the brass plate when her keys slid across the coffee table and fell right to the carpeted floor with a soft thud. Her purse followed, missing the table entirely and landing squarely on the couch cushion, and her snow soaked flats were next – striking the wooden structure with a satisfying 'whack' before falling into a neat pile on the floor.

Brennan tossed her coat over the recliner and went straight to the junk drawer where the batteries were kept and pulled, but instead of flying open it came forward just an inch or so, and stuck fast. Brennan tugged and jiggled, but the drawer wasn' . .

"Damnit!"

Brennan growled her rage and yanked hard, the drawer gave way with a crash, spilling half its contents on the floor. She heaved the drawer up onto the cocktail table in Booth's breakfast nook and dropped it with a curse. A quick look on the floor revealed a plethora of pens, paper clips, and post-it note pads but nothing of consequence. She would clean that mess up later, for now she had a mission to complete so she turned her attention back to the drawer and began rooting through its contents in earnest.

The detritus one accumulates in life is truly fascinating. A plethora of takeout menus, a score of different condiment packets, hard candy, a child's cheap tiny windup toy, a vintage stapler, a letter opener shaped like a Japanese Samurai sword, the expired FBI Contractor photo ID she'd thought she'd lost. Yes, a variety of flotsam and jetsam but not what she was looking for until…

"YES!"

Holding a small box aloft in her hands like a trophy, Brennan barely stopped herself from dancing for joy before she gleefully tore open the top off the flimsy cardboard package. Joy was quickly transformed when, instead of the promised four batteries, she found only two.

"Fuck!"

Brennan crushed the small box in her hand, batteries and all, and began pacing back and forth, kicking post-it notes and pens across the kitchen floor as she did.

"Okay, Bones...think. You know Booth, you know he has to have some batteries in the apartment, after all he's constantly going on and on how Parker's always stealing them out of the remotes for his toys and – the remotes!"

Inspired, Brennan bolted for the living room and began searching frantically for one of the myriad of remotes that Booth kept in the house. She flipped over couch cushions, dumped out the magazine rack, searched the stereo cabinet and even rifled through the DVD case near the TV.

"Oh, yes, yes, yes!" she all but danced for joy at the discovery of the 'mother lode' – five remotes all nestled neatly in a small carrying caddy near her partner's recliner. Clutching the caddy to her chest, Brennan sat down on the couch and began hastily popping off the back panels from each remote and prying out the batteries inside. She almost cried when she picked up the fourth, and next to last, remote – the one for his blu-ray DVD player – and discovered two fresh AAA batteries inside.

Humming happily, Brennan sat down on the well worn leather couch and pooled her fresh battery supply. She counted four, yes four AAA batteries and grabbed the vibrator out of her purse, rapidly swapping the old ones for fresh ones. She almost cried when she turned the base of the pink fleshy monstrosity and it hummed to life. The sense of relief Brennan felt was rapidly replaced by one of amusement – she was sitting on the couch of her partner's apartment. The same partner who's image and scent and memory had been tormenting her for weeks. The same partner who'd been the inspiration for her dirtiest dreams and darkest fantasies for months - even years if she was honest with herself – and now she was here, in his apartment, all alone, and with a vibrator. Not just any vibrator, but the very vibrator that he'd bought for her.

'_What the hell,_' she thought. '_After all, what Booth doesn't know can't hurt him, right? And after all I've gone through just to get this thing running it's not like he doesn't owe me, and there's no better time to collect._'

Brennan grinned at the thought, wondered what Angela would say if she knew, and almost danced on her way to Booth's bedroom. Once inside the doorway of his sanctum she stopped, stilled, and sniffed the air, breathing deeply. A sigh escaped her lips - it smelled like Booth. It was his aftershave, his hair gel, his soap…his very essence. Just the scent of him raised gooseflesh down her arms and made her feel wet and slippery.

Without a second thought Brennan set the vibrator on her partner's dresser, kicked off her flats, peeled off her jeans, and pulled the t-shirt over her head. It had taken seconds but there she was, after years of dancing around the issue, finally naked in Booth's bedroom.

'_Figures, eventually finally gets here and Booth's is out of town_,' Brennan snorted at the thought.

Turning, she grabbed for the vibrator and made for the adjoining en suite; soon the sound of running water filled the silence. She came back out a minute later, still chuffing the pink toy with one of Booth's hand towels. Setting towel and toy down on the top of his nightstand, she couldn't help but notice the large ivory toned pillar candle and a box of matches sitting next to his alarm clock. Casting a glance to the other side of the bed, Brennan couldn't help but smile.

'_Scented candles? Really Booth?_' She thought to herself, '_He never ceases to surprise me, I wonder what I'll find next? Strawberry flavored lube and an rock ballad mix tape?_'

She pulled open the drawer of the nightstand and the chuckle died instantly. If the inside of the drawer was any indication, Booth was anything but a prude. There were a dozen different styles of magnum sized condoms – ribbed, ticklers, lubricated, flavored, glow in the dark. Likewise the selection of lubricants was as varied as the selection of massage oils, and included flavored edibles as well as stimulants specific for men and women. There were several types of incense as well, cones and sticks, and there in the back was the crowning jewel - a well thumbed pocket Kama Sutra.

"Son of a bitch..." she whispered.

· V ·

The faint tinge of sulfur mingled with the rich, earthy undertones of amber as the smoke from the cone of Gonesh slowly curled upwards toward the ceiling. The burning incense mingled with the ever present scent of Booth that persisted in the bed sheets and seemed to burst forth stronger every time she moved across his bed.

The kiss of cool cotton against her skin sent chills through her body; the brush of his pillow against her cheek was a sweet lover's caress. In the guttering light of the candles, the rich smell of incense mingling with the richer scent of Booth and the growing presence of her own arousal made for a heady perfume. It was stronger than the strongest tequila, sweeter than the sweetest wine, and in the half cast darkness, amidst the soft sounds of Latin blues, it felt perfect.

Turning her new friend on a lower power setting, she settled back on the bed - knees up, legs splayed, with her hand moving lazily south. A hum rose up from the back of her throat as her silicone lover pushed slowly through her damp curls. The low vibration resonated within her, feeding her growing need, and as her mind opened to the experience her fantasies came to life. Brennan sucked in a sharp breath as the vibrating head grazed crest of her mound and slipped between her glistening lips.

Her hand slipped lower, the soft pink silicone head and shaft pushing along, separating the length of her slit, sending a myriad of delicious sensations straight to her core while the fingers of her free hand tugged and tweaked the nipples of first one breast and then the other. She rolled the full, heavy flesh in the palm of her hand while her fingers kneaded and plucked until each nippled was a perfectly hard pearl aching for attention.

Sliding her toy back and forth along the whole of her pussy, she pushed it harder, drawing deeper, splitting her lips with the vibrating shaft, biting her lower lip as the fleshy ridge teased her aching clit and the bulbous head hit the sensitive walls just inside her entrance. Mewling moans of pleasure bubbled up from her throat as she continued to roll the soft silicone shaft over her clit and between her pussy lips. The constant pressure and stimulation was coiling the tension in her core tighter and tighter. A few more minutes and she stopped long enough to twist the dial, increasing the speed by several notches and hissing her approval as the pink helmeted head stroked downward, sheathing itself inside her.

Brennan sucked in a breath, as one hand splayed her lips wide, the other tilted and pushed. Letting the breath slip free, the head pushed past her swollen lips and the fire in her core roared as the thick shaft slowly, steadily, disappeared between her well lubricated lips and sank deeper and deeper into her dripping wet pussy, stroking her walls, rubbing against the soft rigid spot inside her and driving her higher and higher.

She shifted her pelvis and it happened - the vibrator stroked against the right spot and lighting burst behind Brennan's eyes. She froze, clamping her legs shut to hold the vibrating monster in place where it continued to send jolt after jolt of electric ecstasy to her core while freeing her hands to run over the length of her body.

Laying there in Booth's bedroom, in his bed, on his sheets, amidst the sounds and scents and rhythms of sex, she could almost imagine that Booth's hands were teasing her nipples, kneading the soft flesh of her full breasts, and that the thick shaft stretching her pussy as it pulsed and vibrated, was Booth's cock. Rolling her hips, Brennan gasped as the head of the vibrator stroked her inside. She repeated the motion again and again, hands stroking her stomach, sides, the undersides of her breasts with each roll of her hips, each tilt of her pelvis.

In her mind's eye Brennan could feel Booth over here, pressing her into the bed; she could smell his scent, strong and clean and masculine, filling her nostrils each time her head thrashed in sweet agony. She imagined him kissing her, his lips on her flesh, his teeth nipping, his mouth tasting her, sucking on her skin, marking her as his. Her nipples ached from the attention her fingers gave them, her breasts were sore from the want of feeling his powerful hands.

One of her own slipped between her legs, grasping the base of her soft pink monster as they fell open to her. She drew the vibrator out slowly, only to push it back in faster, continuing the act and increasing her speed with each thrust until the sound of pulsing silicone plunging into her dripping pussy competed with the sounds of Latin blues and her own moaning voice.

After years of knowing him, months of wanting him, weeks filled with sleepless nights that were filled only with thoughts of him and how he would take her in every imaginable way in this very room, it was no wonder she would reach her peak so soon. And so it was, amidst the wet, sloppy sounds of the vibrator slipping in and out of her throbbing pussy, the feel of the fingers of her free hand as they sought out her clit to tease and stroke it until she could come screaming, that Temperance Brennan, on the verge of an Earth shattering orgasm, quite succinctly, lost her shit.

"So Bones, is this a private party or can anyone join in?"

* * *

_A/N: There's a review button there, please feel free to use it and remember, the more specific the better. Its not that I don't love fluffy reviews but I like detailed feedback better. Thanks!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Unfortunately I don't own nor am I involved with the production of _Bones_, but I do work cheap, so Hart & Co. feel free to call me.

_A/N: Sorry the 3rd__ installment is late - damned FF editor wouldn't cooperate, I had to move it over as plain text and reformat the whole damned thing! Anyway, here's the final chapter__. Hope you enjoyed them all and Merry Christmas Amanda! Thanks._

**Santa Baby - Chapter Three  
**

* * *

The crack and pop of synovial fluid seemed to resonate as his cervical vertebrae shifted position. The sound only grew louder when the elevator passed between floors and Booth pulled his neck hard to the opposite side. He rolled his head around, the soft grinding and popping now offering testimony to how badly his muscles were begging for a hot shower, a good massage, or something even sweatier and more relaxing. '_Fat chance of that happening,_' he thought. '_Hell, the last time I had a sexual liaison had to be...Cam._'

'_Did I just think the words Sexual Liaison? Christ, I do need to get laid,_' but a faint smile crossed Booth's lips as he realized that even his inner monologue was starting to sound like Brennan, and he really didn't mind that at all.

'_Having Brennan in my head? Not my first choice,_' he mused. '_Now Brennan in my bed, yeah, that's more like it._'

The elevator dinged, and Booth hefted his duffel over his shoulder and stepped wearily out into the hall. He heard the doors slide closed behind him and he shuffled down the hallway toward his apartment. It had been a long three and a half weeks, twenty-four days of hell, and if they'd had their way he'd still be there solving their cases for them, but enough was enough. It was too close to Christmas, he'd missed his office, his apartment, his son and most of all, his partner.

'_All I want now,_' he thought tiredly as he fumbled for his keys, '_is a hot shower, a couple of cold beers, and some Bones time._'

Booth frowned as he thought about how long it'd been since his last, real, conversation with his partner. _'Two weeks, and then she's only calling me to chew my ass because they assigned Prentiss to her instead of Perotta. I told them that was a mistake, Prentiss is a Neanderthal who can barely spell forensic anthropologist let alone knowing what to do with one. I swear even that new kid Shaw would have been a better choice.'_ He grunted, turning the key in the lock and trying to shoulder open the door. It didn't open.

"What the fuck?" he mumbled under his breath.

Dropping his duffel, Booth tried the key again. When he realized the bolt was retracted but the chain was on his face twisted into a momentary grimace of confusion. He brushed back his leather jacket and pulled the standard issue Glock 19 service pistol free of its hip holster. Thumbing off the safety he put his finger straight along the slide, just a quick flex away from the trigger. He held the piece low and turned his shoulder against the door; curling his free hand around the edge of the door he shoved hard with his shoulder. A sharp ping as the chain pulled snapped and muffled footsteps were the only sounds to be heard.

He pushed the door open slowly, scanning the available sight-lines from the hall. He could see a cluster of remotes piled on his coffee table and from what he could see they were in pieces. One though came immediately to mind, "Jared"

Tossing his duffel inside the entryway, he closed the door carefully. A glint of light bounced of the broken chain as it slowly swayed pulling a rueful scowl from Booth. He threw the deadbolt and turned around quietly, his stance loose but with his sidearm still in front. He stepped carefully into his apartment; eyes swinging from left to right, his gun hand tracking their progress, stopping at the sight of the jacket carelessly tossed over his recliner. Moving with lethal silence he sidled toward the kitchen, barely stifling a curse at the sight of the wreckage he found there. Toeing a pack of post-it notes aside and taking notice of the junk drawer resting precariously on the high top table, he realized that the only damage done so far was aesthetic.

"Fuck me," he grumbled. "All I wanted was to come home, take a nice hot shower, maybe call Bones and get some Chinese or Thai, or that new Indian place, yeah, she'd like that, but no, not me, not Seeley Booth, not as long as I've got a brother like you Jared."

Booth holstered his sidearm and stepped carefully over the mess in the kitchen to make his way back towards the hall. A few minutes at the bookcase with the fake books and his safe, and the Glock was safely tucked away for the night. As the books slid back into place he turned around to survey the living room, everything looked normal except for the poor pile of remotes left there on the coffee table, but then something caught his eye.

"Shoes?" Booth reached down and grabbed the soggy leather flats laying akimbo on the floor in front of the coffee table. "Damnit Jared, bringing women here now?"

Booth dropped them to the floor with a soft thunk, when he looked up he caught sight of a familiar purse.

"What the fu-?"

Suddenly his vision blurred as his mind struggled to comprehend the evidence before him. A pair of women's shoes, soaking wet, a woman's jacket that now seemed all too familiar and a purse he recognized as Brennan's. His brain slipped into overdrive as he turned over the evidence again and again until he could hear the roar of blood as it rushed in his veins and the hammering blows of his heart against trying to break out of his chest. Nothing made sense but everything pointed to one impossible conclusion, his partner – not his brother – had broken into his apartment, ransacked the place, and was still here.

"I seriously want to know just what the fuck is going on," he half growled in frustration.

And as if the universe had heard his plea there came the one word from the one voice that could pull him back from the black abyss and make sense of his topsy-turvy world. A low moaning voice calling out a single word, "Boooth..."

∙ V ∙

He'd known Brennan for years and wanted her since the moment he'd met her. If Seeley Booth was honest with himself and his confessor he'd blush over the number of sleepless nights he'd spent dreaming about his beautiful partner and all the different ways he'd love to have her – against the door, on his desk, her desk, Angela's desk, Sweets' desk...he was beginning to sense a theme there. Of course his dreams weren't limited to office furnishings, no, he also wanted her in the SUV, the elevator at work, the elevator at the Jeffersonian, the gardens at the Jeffersonian, the conference room, the break room, the gym, her doorway, his doorway, his bathroom, his kitchen, his living room, his bedroom...his bed.

God how he wanted her in his bed; hard and fast, slow and sensual, they would fuck like rabbits in heat and spend days make lazy languid love until they were too sore to move. He wanted her in every way imaginable, and Seeley Booth had a pretty damned good imagination. Of course that imagination was working overtime right now because years of imagining and doing nothing had been wearing on him more and more as time went on, and all the time he told himself he was waiting for her to be ready. But if she was here now, in his apartment, doing what it sounded like she was doing...

'_All this time I was planning to tell her how I wanted things to change, well things have already changed Seeley m'boy, so now it's time to man up and go show her why she'll never need or want anyone else again.'_

His hand hit the doorknob and before another thought could enter his head the door was swinging wide open and he was stepping across the threshold and into –

"Heaven..." his voice was a harsh whisper, swallowed up by the sound of soft Latin blues, low moans, a raspy feminine voice chanting his name and the very electric hum of someone getting closer to liftoff.

Nostrils flaring at the pungent mix of incense, sweat, and sexual arousal, it took only a second for his sniper trained eyes to adjust to the soft light but it would take a lot longer for his mind to accept what he was seeing. Because there, laying before him in all her glory was the object of his lust and affection. He saw her in his bed, skin glowing amidst shaded candle light and tousled sheets, and stood transfixed at the sight of her. His partner, his Bones, with the fingers of one perfectly formed hand slipping over the crest of her mound while the other plunged a pink monstrosity in and out of the most deliciously wet pussy he'd ever seen.

He knew, maybe by the way she was rocking her hips as she fucked herself with the vibrator, maybe by the way she was moaning his name so breathily, whatever it was he _knew_ she was close to cumming hard. And just like he knew she was close, he knew there was no way in hell he could let her get off without him. Not now, not ever again.

"So Bones, is this a private party or can anyone join in?"

The way she froze, in mid moan of _his_ name, told Booth all he needed to know. Leaning far more casually than he felt inside, he propped himself against the door frame and fixed a predatory smile upon his face as his eyes drank in the sight before him. She was beautiful, she was sexy, and she was beyond pissed off.

"Booth!"

Her face was screwed shut in the exact opposite of ecstasy and her voice held a desperate edge that spoke of a frustration honed razor sharp and looking for blood. Even so, he couldn't help but smile.

"You know, Bones, breaking and entering is a felony offense," Booth's smiling eyes danced at her obvious frustration. "And committing lewd and indecent acts, well, I'm not sure where that falls but I think it warrants a certain…punishment. Don't you?"

At the word punishment Brennan's body jolted as if it'd been shocked; Booth couldn't help but notice the slight jiggle in her breasts or the pout in her lips as she stared daggers at him. He knew his partner, and right now his partner was hot for cock, but that wasn't enough. He wanted her hot for _his_ cock, and his alone.

He stepping farther into the room, knowing that the faint light from the living room would make him seem bigger, even more intimidating than he already looked. He walked slowly toward the bed, and Brennan. The air crackled from the attraction between them, the scent of her was stronger the closer he got to the bed. Booth never too his eyes of hers, so when he felt his knee brush against the mattress he stopped, pushed back his jacket, and settled his hands on his hips. Leaning forward, his face just a foot from hers, he chuckled darkly.

"You didn't answer me," Booth's voice was a rich whisper in the candle lit room. "I said, you've been a bad, bad girl, Temperance, and I think you deserve to be punished."

"P-punished?" Brennan half croaked. Her eyes never left the area of stressed denim just below his Cocky belt buckle; the hot pink tip of her tongue slipped out, wetting her lower lip. "Why?"

"Why?" he laughed, genuine mirth in his voice. "Only you, Bones, Temperance...only you could ask why while sitting naked, legs apart, dildo still in your hands. Do I really need to explain it to you, Temperance? Or will you just admit that there's a reason you came to my apartment, my bedroom, just so you could get off with your battery operated buddy there?"

"Batteries!" Brennan blurted, "I needed batteries, there's a shortage and you have remotes."

"I have remotes, right." The feral look in his eyes and the lupine grin were a testament to how hungry she made him. "And you were calling out my name as you fucked that deliciously wet pussy of yours because of my remotes, is that it? Is that your story?"

He couldn't miss the way her already dilated eyes widened as he said the word fucked, or how her flushed chest and neck reddened further when he mentioned her pussy. What he totally missed, however, was what coming.

∙ V ∙

Booth's head rocked from where Brennan had slapped him, his cheek instantly turning bright red from the impact of her otherwise delicate hand. He instantly moved one of his own large hands to cradle his wounded pride.

"Bones, what the hell?!"

"You arrogant cocky bastard!" She spit the words at him, "Who the fuck do you think you are, Booth? Who?!"

She shoved him, hard; Booth rocked back on his heels, stepping back from the bed in surprise.

"Jesus, Bones! Will you quit hitting me!"

She threw the vibrator at him, hitting him in the chest hard enough for it to make a muffled slapping noise, and cause the plastic cap on the end fly off, dumping the precious cargo of triple A cell batteries on the carpet where the rest of the ill fated toy wound up.

"I'm human, Booth, I've got the same biological imperatives as anyone else!" She scrambled up onto her knees, hair a tangled crown around her head, eyes blazing. "And you, you just come in here and, and-"

"Interrupt?" Still rubbing his cheek, he couldn't help but be entranced by the sexual goddess in front of him.

"Exactly! And it's all your fault, you and your damned symmetrical features and those chocolate brown fucking eyes and that crooked charm smile that's invaded my dreams-"

"I'm in your dreams?"

"And that wouldn't be so bad, I mean, the dreams are nice and you're in them, and at least in the dreams we can be-"

His fingers brushed against her lips, closing them. "Together. In our dreams we can be together, right, Temperance?"

She reached out, putting her small hand over his larger one and pushing his fingers away from her mouth. "Yes, at least in my dreams I, I can have you the way I want you. The way anyone else can have you."

Booth nodded, understanding, "and that's what you were doing here, right? Indulging in the fantasy?"

Unabashed, Brennan stared defiantly back at him, "Well it's not like you were ever going to make a move, is it?"

Booth sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, laughing, "Yeah, well if you weren't paying attention I was trying to make a move just now but it didn't work out exactly like I'd hoped."

He could see her struggling for words and decided to try a different approach. Leaning over, he reached out to the half-opened nightstand drawer and pulled out the battered copy of the Kama Sutra. Brennan's eyes were locked on the book, she sat as if transfixed watching him flip it open and retrieve a small photo from inside. He turned the picture around and showed it to her, and Brennan gasped.

"This is..."

"Last year, you remember? The Jeffersonian Spring Gala?"

"I remember," She looked up at him with shining eyes. "I told Angela that dress was too revealing; it was cut scandalously and it was backless with an almost indecent slit up the side."

"Yeah, you were so beautiful in it, Temperance," Booth reached out, resting a hand on her naked thigh. "And we had just the right amount of champagne that night."

"I thought we drank too much, I still get queasy thinking about the hangover the next morning." She argued

"Yeah, but you had too much to care that I was your partner and I had too much to listen to that little voice in my head saying 'don't try it, she'll kick your ass'," they laughed. "And that was just the right amount because it meant we got to dance every dance together."

"I, I liked the way it felt to be in your arms, your hard, tuxedo clad body pressed against mine, the way my dress rubbed against my breasts as we moved around the dance floor," Brennan reached out, laying a hand on top of his. "I love the feel of your hands, Booth. So strong and rough. The feel of your hands pressed against my naked body? It's one of the things I've dreamed about.

"You weren't the only one who had dreams, Temperance," his voice was hoarse and raw.

Brennan slowly reached out and plucked the book from Booth's hands; putting the picture back inside, she quietly set them back in the drawer.

"Bones? What are you doing?" he asked as she pushed him off the bed.

"There will be plenty of time later for us to work through the Kama Sutra," she smirked. "But right now, I think you owe me for interrupting what was promising to be one of the best orgasms of my life."

"I owe you, huh?" He stood back, arms crossed in amusement. "And what about the disaster area you left in the kitchen and living room, messy miss?"

"Collateral damage," she shot back. "Now strip."

"What?!"

"You heard me, Seeley Booth," She gave him an arched look. "I want to see you get naked in front of me, and when you're done, I expect you to give me several outstanding orgasms."

"Several...outstanding?" Booth muttered as he simultaneously shrugged out of his coat and kicked off his shoes. "Baby, I plan on giving you the best orgasms of your life."

"Oh really?" She mocked, watching him dance from foot to foot as he tried to pull his jeans free of his legs.

"You bet! You think that pink plastic toy was good? Well the nothing compares to the real thing, Bones," Booth finally kicked free his jeans and stood there triumphantly in his boxers and socks. "And Seeley Booth is the real thing."

Her eyes worked their way down from his hair, still annoyingly perfectly coiffed despite the haste with which he ripped off his tee shirt, to his rugged jaw, the sculpted plains of his chest and stomach, his GI Joe boxers tented proudly in front.

"Socks," she nodded at the red and gold striped monstrosities. "The socks have to go."

"No problem," He drug his feet against the floor, pulling them free of the warmth of his socks, then gestured toward his tented boxers. "What about these?"

"Oh yes, but slowly, mister Booth, very slowly..."

She leaned forward, resting on her hands. Watching intently as he slowly rolled the boxers down over his slim hips. Her tongue slipped out, wetting her lips when she saw the 'V' of his pelvis appear. Her breath caught in the back of her throat when the elastic snagged on the head of his erection. That same breath burst free when he tugged harder, causing his cock to spring free and slap against the well toned stomach.

"Oh God, yes," she whispered, eyes locked on the perfectly formed erection in front of her.

"Like what you see, Bones?" He smirked.

"Shut up, Booth." She looked up at him, a look of feral hunger in her eyes he knew only too well. "Get your ass over here, now – you owe me and I want to collect."

"Yes, ma'am"

He took two steps and yelped when Brennan reached out and grabbed for his cock. It felt amazing in her hands, soft and hard at the same time, so hot it felt like it could burn her alive and yet pulsing with life. She relished the velvety feel as she ran the fingers of one hand wrapped around him, lightly brushing over the purple helmeted head; her other hand cupped his balls, heavy and full, massaging them gently.

"Jesus!"

"No," She grinned evilly, "Bones."

She continued to pump his cock rhythmically, fondling his balls the entire time, making Booth moan and curse and call out saints names at random intervals. Brennan could feel him swaying in time with the movement of her hands and casting a devilish glance upward, she slowly took him into her mouth.

Sucking harder, she slipped her tongue out to lick the underside of him as her lips wrapped around his shaft and more of his cock slid inside her mouth. When he shifted his weight, she could feel the spongy head of his cock striking against her soft palate; she pulled back letting her teeth rake lightly over the sensitive skin.

"Jesus fucking Christ!"

Booth's exclamation was all the encouragement Brennan needed to redouble her effort. Sucking harder, she swallowed half the length of his cock in one stroke and then began sliding up and down, taking in more and more of his impressive member with each movement.

"Oh God, Bones! I-if you keep that up I'm," Booth audibly gulped. "I- oh Jesus – I'm not gonna last baby!"

She didn't stop or even slow her pace; instead she ran her free hand up the back of his thigh until her fingertips were tracing the underside of his ass while her other hand continued to palm his testicles. A shudder ran through Booth's frame and Brennan continued to work at swallowing as much of his cock as she could. She slid along the length of him, thanking providence for her lack of gag reflex; pushing forward she could feel the head of his cock slipping deeper into her throat until her nose was brushing against the wiry bush of hair at the base of him.

Now with his entire length slipping in and out of her mouth, Brennan began tugging on his balls while simultaneously working her fingers between the cheeks of his ass until one of them was pressed against his sphincter. Booth reacted to her ministrations with growing intensity, cursing and panting and gyrating in time with her mouth. His hands slid over her arms, his fingers tangled in her hair, she could feel him all around her and the scent of his sex, strong and spicy and male, filled her senses up as she swallowed him whole.

Her finger slipped past the tight muscular ring and soon she was working it in and out of his ass. It wasn't long before she felt Booth's muscles go rigid. Instinctively, she pushed forward taking the length of him in her mouth while her finger plunged deep inside him and her hand tugged savagely on his balls.

"FUCK YES! BONES!"

Booth bellowed as he came; she could feel him pumping his seed down her throat. Slowly, she pulled back, had hand slipping from behind him. Giving his balls a final, soft squeeze, she sucked him down to the last salty sweet mouthful.

She sat back licking her lips while Booth groaned and slowly fell away, half sliding, half falling, into a sitting position on the floor with his back against the side of the bed. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, and his head lolled to one side; pleasure glazed eyes stared adoringly up at her.

"I'm not complaining, Bones," he croaked between labored breaths. "But why?"

Laughing, Brennan slid off the bed and stood lightly in front of the spent man, "Because Booth, I said I wanted several outstanding orgasms-" she could see him start and simply held a finger to his lips. "And while you promised me the best ones of my life, I wanted to make sure you didn't finish early just because you were out of practice."

Booth's dark throaty chuckle answered her, "Yeah, well no chance of that now, huh? Hey! What are you doing now?"

Brennan turned back from the doorway of the bathroom, "Don't worry, you'll see."

He heard the water running and then seconds later she emerged carrying two wash clothes. Brennan dropped one on the nightstand and tossed the other directly at Booth's head, where it landed with a wet slap.

"Hey!" he grabbed the washcloth and threw it straight back, more than a little annoyed at how easily she caught it. "Nice catch, now mind telling me what that was for?"

"Simple. I always clean my toys before I used them," her pert smirk taunted, "you're my new toy."

"And you want to make sure I'm clean before you use me?" Brennan never answered, she simply climbed onto the bed with feline grace and a look on her face like a cat who'd found the cream.

Booth slowly climbed onto the bed after her, "You're forgetting one thing, Temperance..."

"I am?"

"What If I don't let you use me?" he teased, crawling toward her.

"But you promised!" Her lips pursed in discontent.

"Ah, Bones, but promises were meant to be broken."

He'd was looming over her, arms and legs spread wide, when Brennan hooked a leg between his; she grabbed him by the shoulders and with a sharp twisting motion, rolled them over so she was sitting atop the sculpted planes of his stomach.

"Hey!" he laughed in protest.

"You promised," Brennan panted earnestly. "And you never break your promises."

"I don't?" he grinned up at her in open admiration.

"No, you don't," Brennan intoned almost solemnly. "You always keep your promises to me, Booth, always."

Brennan was sitting on his stomach, knees gently squeezing his sides. Her hands were still gripping his shoulders and he couldn't help but notice the soft sway of her full breasts. In the half light of the candles the blush of attraction and activity had given her skin warm and rosy glow. But as entrancing as all of that was, it was her face that held him transfixed – her lips, full and ripe, her hair tousled and wild, and her eyes, eyes so deep and blue and trusting. He could feel the change in things between them, and suddenly his whole world felt like it was spinning out of control. There was only one thing for him to do, jump.

"You're right, Bones." Booth's voice was low and heavy, filled with emotion and as dark as his eyes.

"I am?"

Even if he hadn't known how he felt about her, hearing that little girl lost voice coming from the sex kitten sitting on his chest was enough to seal the deal.

"You are. I don't break promises, not to you, and I promised you the best orgasms of your life and I aim to deliver," he looked her straight in the eyes, smiling. "No matter how long it takes or how many times we have to try."

Brennan's face split into a knowing smile, understanding the promise being made as well as the man who made it. She dropped her lips to his, her tongue slipping into his waiting mouth, tasting him in a whole new way.

He responded with vigor, and the kiss deepened instantly. Tongues battled for supremacy in the heat of their joined mouths. A delicious friction was building between their bodies as Brennan's breasts crushed and dragged over Booth's chest; the heat continued to build, spreading with broad, rough hands stroking down her sides and back, stroking up her legs and cupping her ass. Brennan's head was swimming from sensory overload. His hands were everywhere and all at once, and every calloused stroke against her skin was a shock to her system and left a trail of gooseflesh behind it. Then there was the kissing. Kissing Booth was a sexual experience all its own, his lips were soft, supple, and strong – a perfect reflection of the man himself – and his tongue, oh God, his tongue was more than talented; it was intuitive, always seeking the sweetest caresses. If that's what if felt like in her mouth, she couldn't wait to have him go down on her.

Brennan laughed as he flipped them over and pushed her roughly into the mattress, his body sliding over hers, pinning her beneath him as he kissed her senseless, smothering her lips with his own, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, coaxing and caressing her tongue as they danced around one another. His hands returned to her tantalize her, one working its way into her hair, luxuriating in the silken feel of her tresses as he massaged her scalp, the other winding its way down to her hollow between her legs, stroking and palming her mound, fingers sliding over and massaging her swollen clit.

They pulled back briefly, gasping for breath, and Brennan looked up seeing the unbridled passion in Booth's eyes. With a growl Booth renewed his attack, nipping her chin, laving the skin beneath and traveling down the thin column of her throat and then nipping and biting his over the clavicle until he reached her shoulder. There his teeth dug into the tender flesh eliciting a moan from Brennan, and as his mouth moved back along her shoulder to her neck, biting and sucking harder, the moaning grew louder, more insistent, until Brennan's breath to drew short, her chest ached, lungs burned as she struggled vainly against the sensations racking her body.

Booth's constant assault hastened her demise, his fingers dipped into the wet heat between her folds, his thumb resting right on her clitoris, the rough ridged pad rasping the tender cluster of nerves until she broke under his touch, gasping and moaning her approval. She slid her hands up his back, dug her fingers into his shoulder blades and pulled herself as tightly as she could against him, needing to feel the full length of him pressed against her naked body. She gasped as his lips found a sweet spot behind one ear, groaned as one hand fell upon a breast and plucked rudely at the nipple there, rolling it between his fingers. She called out "Oh Fuck Booth!" as his fingers returned again and again to her dripping pussy even as she bucked into his hand.

Booth smiled into her eyes, "You like that baby?" Brennan could only gasp and groan in response.

"Oh fuck yes," she moaned.

Booth chuckled and moved over her again and Brennan's voice rapidly devolved into a wail as he kissed his way down her chest. It wasn't long before shoulders, neck, and breasts were covered with love bites and sucking kisses that had raised the flesh and her nipples rose rock hard from ample breasts.

Wherever his fingers, hands, and mouth wandered as they worked their way down her body with military precision, they elicited moans and groans from her, growls of approval and cries of contentment. His answering cries were grunts of lustful appreciation, growls of needful desire, a cacophony of guttural sounds that spoke to his primal need for her, now unleashed. The only remnants of Booth the man were the oft spoke, "So beautiful" and "So perfect", and "my God Bones!", as he reveled in ravaging her body.

When his lips finally found the small thatch of curls she felt him hesitate, tensing as he drank in the scent of her arousal, the musky perfume of sweat, desire and raw sex. The hot breath from his mouth scorched the gooseflesh beneath his lips and sent shivers through her body when he placed a single chaste kiss upon that skin. Grinding his face along the path he nuzzled, licked, and nipped his way through the forest of damp curls until he came to the crest of her mound. Pausing for just one slow, sweet, second he placed a burning kiss on her throbbing clit and Brennan bucked against him instinctively.

She arched her body and loosed a low, mewling moan that grew in intensity as Booth continued sucking and teasing her clit. He put one hand between her breasts and pushed her back into the bed as the thick calloused fingers of his other hand explored her pussy, teasing the lips now slick with her juices until each touch elicited a shudder from her. The edges of his mouth quirked upward when he plunged two fingers into her, relishing the wet, scalding heat of her core and marveling at how her walls grasped and pulled at his fingers as he thrust in and out of her slowly. Glancing upward, he saw Brennan staring down at him through eyes half hooded in lustful abandon and he grinned wantonly, "You're so wet baby, so juicy, and you taste so damn good…I just might have to eat you right up."

"Oh fuck, do it, please, yes, do it!" She screwed her eyes shut as Booth plunged a third finger into her sopping wet cunt. "Fuck YES!"

He curled them about to find the rigid soft spot within her and Brennan was instantly on edge. Booth could feel the tension within her coiling incredibly tight, beneath his hand her heart was pounding wildly and the heat of her pussy was scalding his fingers as they returned to her again and again. He captured her clitoris with his mouth, sucked it in between his lips and, grasping it ever so gently, allowing his teeth to graze the sensitive skin as his tongue flicked at it mercilessly with a rapid hummingbird beat. He felt that sensitive button of nerves ache and throb within his mouth as his fingers plunged in and out of her dripping, wet pussy. Brennan's voice changed timbre, her words lost coherence, and as the pace quickened the word "Booth" on her lips was rendered a mewling moan until finally, with one last flick of the tongue, one last twist of the wrist, she shattered under him, fisting handfuls of sheets, arching and thrusting wildly against him. Booth felt the coil within her snap, the sudden fluttering of her walls, grasping desperately at his fingers, convulsing, pulling, squeezing them in a vice like grip as she flooded around his fingers, gushing into his hand, his mouth dropped instantly to her folds and his tongue joined his fingers as he lapped, sucked, and slurped noisily at the sweet juices that poured out of her.

Brennan's was still dazed nearly senseless from that Earth shattering orgasm and she was keenly aware of Booth's tongue and fingers that were still vigorously lapping at her core as if it was the center of his own small universe. She virtually pulsed with pleasure and when he suddenly pulled back Brennan couldn't help but gasp at his absence. Her downcast eyes saw him rise up above her, caught the predatory gleam in his eyes as he sucked each finger clean, "You taste so good baby…mmm, so damned good I might just have to eat you all night long."

"N-No, no more, Booth," she panted. "I want you now, I need...I need..."

"What do you need baby? Hmm," He smiled, "Tell me what you need."

Brennan growled in frustration and scissored her legs around his midsection, twisting her body and flipping him on his back. Booth yelped in surprise as she rolled him and soon found his hands trapped above his head with Brennan once again sitting on his stomach.

"Stop calling me Baby, Baby," She dropped her head to his and kissed him passionately until they were both panting into one another's mouths. "Oh, and what I need? Is for you to fuck me."

"Baby, you don't know how long I've wanted to hear you say that."

Brennan's protest was lost as Booth scooted forward, sliding her down his frame and right where he wanted her. Strong, calloused hands gripped her thighs, forcing her legs farther apart and she sighed feeling his the full length of his rock hard cock sliding between her swollen pussy lips. Brennan gasped as just the head of his cock separate them, invading her only so far then stopping. "God Booth, I need you in me…quit teasing!"

"Say the magic word, Baby" he taunted.

"NOW!" She cried out.

"Close enough!" He growled, ending her plaintive cry with a single, long, powerful thrust and a "Jesus Bones!"

They stayed in that position for a long second, their eyes locked in dazed and wondering gaze and Brennan couldn't help but groan approvingly, "Oh God, Booth…so…fucking big, so good"

"Damn, Bones, so tight Baby…so perfect" He groaned.

He began slowly rocking into her, his hands grasping her thighs, tilting her until he stroked deep, reaching the end of her walls with a soft grunt. Brennan mewled her approval, while Booth growled out "Christ Temperance…you were made for me…only for me baby."

He pulled out slowly, his eyes never leaving hers while Brennan whimpered at the feel of his retreat. She squirmed anxiously when he stopped, the head of his cock again just inside her, but her squirming stilled and she gasped, half in surprise half in ecstasy, as he plunged back into her, his returning thrusts taking him all the way in again and again, stretching her, filling her like no other man ever had. Booth's pace started slowly, but with each subsequent thrust the tension within her built quickly, her smoldering core rapidly reignited by the tension and friction of each thrust as he picked up speed.

Booth saw the glazed look in her eyes and with a self satisfied smirk in his voice as he asked "You like that baby? Is Seeley giving you what you need?"

Her head rolled back as she screwed her eyes shut, "Mmm…more Booth…harder…faster."

She'd grunted the words between the ragged breaths that were timed perfectly to match each of his thrusts, but they had their desired effect. Booth's smirk vanished, replaced by an atavistic look of need and his hands slid up to her hips. With his next thrust he ground into her, using every ounce of strength and the force of the thrust to buck her upward. Brennan fell forward, desperately grabbing the headboard. A wordless, feral, smile appeared and Booth's head lifted, capturing one of her breasts and sucking hard on the pebbled nipple he found there.

He pulled back to hear Brennan gasp slightly, her hands grasping the headboard and his shoulders, looking for any purchase they could find as he drove relentlessly up into her. Booth braced his legs and with both hands on her waist he helped her ride him as he began to buck harder and harder into her hot, wet, cunt. His thrusts took the full length of her at first, but the pace increased and soon he was pistoning in and out of her, each manic thrust met with an answering grunt and before long they were bouncing across the bed.

Booth quickened his pace, pumping wildly into her a pussy that was so hot it was like molten honey, her sweet walls grasped and pulled at his cock as it left her, embraced him vigorously as he returned each time until the tension within her built to a crescendo and she shattered above him for the third time. Feeling her walls grasp and flutter as he plunged into her, clamping tightly around his iron hard cock as he returned to her again and again, Booth lost the last of his control.

"Temperance, look at me…at me sweetheart…I need to s-see you…" Brennan was still riding the last vestiges of her orgasm when she locked eyes with Booth and in that moment all of the air left the room. She gasped seeing his eyes, so black with desire and need, and those gasps turned to moans and mewls that came in time with each ragged thrust, each roll of his hips, each twist of his cock inside her. Booth's cock plunged into her pussy again and again, his thrusting manic, his rhythm broken, the head of his cock reaching the end of her walls, stroking those spots deep within her, the ones no man had touched before. The tension within her, already coiled impossibly tight, simply snapped. Booth felt Brennan flooding around him, her walls grasping, fluttering, clamping down like a velvet vice around his cock, the heat of her threatening to set him a flame. The crest of her orgasm washed over them both, the intensity of her reaction driving Booth over the edge, pulling release from him. His hands clamped down on her waist as he arched off the bed with a single violent thrust that ended with him screaming "Bones!"

Booth's body stiffened, his cock spasming within her molten heat. Brennan's body continued to convulse and shake and shudder in time with each pulse of Booth's cock. Each spasm pumped what felt like gallons of his cum inside her, Brennan's body trembled and quaked in delight until she could take no more. Her fingers flexed, grasping Booth's shoulders harder, and as the wash of heat poured out of him, a sudden twitch of his length pushed her to climax once again. This orgasm surprised them both, following so closely on the heels of the last, and shook them both. Her blunt nails dug into his sculpted shoulders, carving ribbons of skin from him in a valiant effort to hold on. The maelstrom seized them, flooded their senses, threatened to drown them in wave after wave of pure ecstasy as they cried out to one another, their screams echoing off the walls until the only sound left was their ragged breathing.

∙ V ∙

Brennan had collapsed atop Booth, limp and spent, sprawled over his chest and still cradled by his legs. She was left a boneless quivering mass from their session and was unable to do anything but moan as he slowly rolled them over. He settled to one side, cast an arm over her breasts protectively, hitched a leg over hers, and kissed her bare shoulder. Brennan felt a tug from her heart and rolled into him, settling snugly against his warm, beating heart. When she opened her eyes she saw two soft, chocolate brown orbs looking back at her.

"Hey," He brushed back the hair from her eyes, and gave her a crooked grin.

"Hey," Brennan responded softly. "You're home early."

Booth laughed, hard, and soon Brennan was laughing too. The two of them laughed until they collapsed in a fit of giggles and snorts, blubbering in each other's arms.

"Oh God, Bones, don't ever change, Baby." Booth snorted.

"Why would I change?" Brennan asked before slapping his shoulder hard. "And don't call me Baby!"

"First of all, stop hitting!" He laughed, "and second it's just an expression of endearment, Temperance. It doesn't mean I'm infantilizing you or whatever feminist crap you're going to read into it, it's just me saying something to you because I love you."

The words were out before either of them knew it, but when Brennan saw the look of fear cross Booth's face she couldn't help but laugh.

"Relax, Booth. I'm not going to jump up and run away just because you said you love me."

"You're not?" He gave her a look that said he wasn't sure he believed her.

"No, I'm not." Brennan reached up and stroked his cheek, tenderly, "I came to terms a long time ago with how I felt about you Booth, I just never thought you would feel the same. I don't know if I can say the words right now, but I don't mind hearing them."

He shook his head, chuckling, "You know, Bones? You never cease to amaze me. I mean, I sweated that one for years."

"Years? Really?" She asked in awe. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Fear, I guess."

"Fear? You?"

Booth grinned at her surprise, "Don't sound so shocked, Baby, even big bad Army Rangers can be afraid of ruining the one good relationship in their lives by moving too fast."

Brennan shook her head, "No, I get that – believe me, I totally do – but I find it odd that you'd say you were afraid to say anything but you had no problem sending me that vibrator. That was a very bold move given your trepidation at changing the status of our relationship."

Booth shifted so he was propped up on one elbow, looking down at her, "What are you talking about, sending you that vibrator? I never sent you a vibrator."

Now it was Brennan who shifted, propping herself up on an elbow to look him back eye to eye, "Of course you did. There was a note from you, it was your hand writing, you called me Bones, you said to eat!"

Brennan stared hard at Booth who suddenly seemed lost in thought. She was about to say something when his expression changed to one that seemed almost pained.

"Bones, what exactly did the note say?"

"It said that partners take care of one another in all sorts of ways and since you couldn't be here to take care of me personally you thought our little 'friend' could do the trick until you got back in town," She saw him screwing his eyes shut and starting to blush. "What?"

"Oh God, I ordered a personal massager for you alright, but it was a personal shiatsu neck massager!" Booth groaned. "You keep going on and on about how great that neck pillow Angela got you is but I noticed it's starting to act hinky so I figured I'd get you a newer model. The store must have screwed up the order and sent you the vibrator by mistake!"

Brennan reached out and laid a delicate hand on his chest in reassurance, "But Booth, it all worked out for the best. After all, if I hadn't gotten that vibrator tonight, tonight might never have happened."

With an anguished look on his face Booth stared back at Brennan, "You don't get it, Bones. I loved tonight, I loved that this finally happened for us and I wouldn't change it for anything in the world it's just..."

"Just what?" Brennan implored, "Please, Seeley. Tell me, Baby."

"I ordered the same shiatsu neck massager for my Aunt Pat!"

Brennan's laughter could be heard all the way down the block.

* * *

_A/N: There's a review button there, please feel free to use it and remember, the more specific the better. Its not that I don't love fluffy reviews but I like detailed feedback better. Thanks!_


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